Bendy and the Ink Machine: Shadows of the Past
by Mnkjango
Summary: Two years before Henry Stein returns to Joey Drew Studios, a reporter, seeking a story, enters the studio, and bites off far more than he can chew. Will he be able to make allies and survive the horrors of the Ink Machine, or will a threat lurking in the shadows claim him? (Rated T for violence and language, and maybe some suggestive themes. May change to M due to later chapters.)
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Joey Drew Studios

A/N: This story takes place about two years before the events of BATIM. Insert usual disclaimer here: I only own my OCs and blah blah blah.

Chapter 1: Welcome to Joey Drew Studios

"Yeah… yeah, I'm driving up to the place now," I said into the phone. I pulled my car up in front of the decrepit building. "I'll call you once I've found something interesting we can use. If you don't hear from me in a few days, assume I didn't find anything."

"Alright," Paul said on the other end. "But I trust you, Jason. You're our best reporter; if there isn't a story, I'm sure you can make one."

I smiled. "Yeah, because making up fake stories always works out well. Don't worry, I'll find something. See you tomorrow, hopefully." I hung up and placed the phone into my pocket. I turned off the car and got out, looking up at the building in front of me blocking out the midday sun.

It was about four stories tall, and the architecture betrayed its age. Not only were the designs old, the building was worn down from decades of abandonment. Broken windows, rotting wood, peeling paint, the usual. Above the main entrance, three massive gears spun slowly, somehow still powered. Overlaid on them was a sign proclaiming the name of the building:

"JOEY DREW STUDIOS."

There was a locked gate between me and the front door, but that was OK. The front only led to the visitor area. I wanted to get into the workshop. If there was a story here, and Paul insisted there was, I would find it there. Grabbing my camera out of my car before locking it, I made my way around the building. On the side was a door labeled "WORKSHOP ENTRANCE".

"Bingo," I muttered to myself. There wasn't a fence here, although rusted bits of wire poking out of the ground suggested there once was. I tried the knob, but it was locked. Thankfully, age had worn down the lock mechanism, and I managed to turn the knob by brute force. Once in, I put a piece of wood as a doorstop to keep the door open. I didn't trust the door, and the last thing I needed was to trap myself in here.

I turned around. I was in a small hallway with three posters on either wall. The hallway opened into a small room with a few chairs, a projector, and a smaller version of the logo over the front door, its turning gears providing the only ambience in the room. I began taking pictures, making my way down one of the hallways. There were more posters, unfinished storyboards, and some cardboard cutouts of the studio's most popular character, Bendy the Dancing Demon. He honestly looked cute to me, which I guess was the point. I turned a corner, camera at the ready, and stopped. Written across the wall, in what appeared to be ink, were the words "DREAMS COME TRUE". I raised my camera and took a picture, slightly confused by the sight. After a moment, I passed it off as some sort of graffiti. After all, the building had been abandoned for almost 30 years. Homeless people and delinquent teens were bound to have come in here a few times.

At the end of the hall, I saw a chart that apparently recorded the output for something called the "Ink Machine". The last recorded output was 423 gallons. "Jesus Christ, that's a lot of ink," I muttered, taking a picture of the chart. Moving on, I jumped over a pipe on the floor labelled "WATCH YOUR STEP" and turned another corner.

And froze.

I was on a balcony overlooking a massive chamber. Sunlight filtered in through gaps in the ceiling, but it did nothing to help illuminate the massive yawning pit in the center of the room.

And dangling above it, on several chains, was what I could only assume was the Ink Machine.

It was massive. Way bigger than anything a cartoon studio should have needed. On one end there was a massive nozzle, and on the end partially facing away from me there was a massive glass container full of, well, ink. Cables sprouted from the bottom and ran into the pit below, out of sight.

I immediately began taking pictures. This was definitely a story. Why would a cartoon studio need something like this? Who needed this much ink? How did they afford to build and maintain it? And for some reason, I got the feeling it did more than dispense ink. I leaned on the railing, trying to get a better look. I guess I should've figured it wouldn't be able to support my weight, because suddenly I was falling, face-first, onto the floor below.

I managed to cover my face right before I hit the ground. After a moment of dazed pain, I got up. I checked myself and the camera. Both me and my camera seemed to be fine, though I could tell I would have some nasty bruises in a few places. Still, I could walk.

I looked up at the balcony. There was no way I would be able to get back up there. There had to be another way out. Looking around, I saw a stairwell entrance. Walking over, I opened the door. Stairs led downwards, descending into the building. I sighed. Looked like I was going down. Hopefully I'd find a story and an exit.

As I made my way down the stairs, I failed to see a figure pull a lever on the balcony, causing the Machine to begin descending into the building as well.

And I also failed to see that same figure jump down to the floor below and begin to follow me.


	2. Chapter 2: More Than Just Ink

**Chapter 2: More Than Just Ink**

I made my way down the staircase, stopping occasionally to peer through doors. Most of them were either blocked by debris or stuck shut with age. I'd gone down five flights, way more than I thought there would be, before I found a door that opened. I walked out into a hallway that was dimly lit, with ink dripping from the ceiling. Looking around, I picked a direction to head and began walking. As I did, I continued looking at my surroundings. This floor was even more run down than the ground floor. The walls were rotting in several places, cobwebs were in almost every corner, and several turns ended in cave-ins.

Not to mention, there was ink everywhere. It was dripping from the ceiling, coating the walls, pooling on the floor. As I made my way deeper into the studio, it only seemed to be getting worse. Once again, I questioned what the point of the all this ink was. No one, no matter how many cartoons they needed to draw, needed this much ink. There was definitely another purpose to it, but for the life of me I couldn't figure it out. What else could you do with ink besides draw?  
"You could certainly make a mess," I muttered, as I stepped around yet another puddle of ink.

After a few minutes, I found a map of the floor I was on, pinned on the wall and partially stained with ink. I noticed there was an exit in the storyboard room, a couple halls down to my left. I turned to head towards it and froze. Someone… no, some_thing_ was standing in the hall I had just come out of. It was black, and covered in ink. On its chest was a white bow tie, and its left hand had a white glove on it. I could make out two horns on its head. It took me a moment to process what it was supposed to look like.

By the time my brain started working again, Bendy had already started towards me.

Panicking, I ran down another hallway, barely even registering that I'd dropped my camera. All I could hear was the blood in my ears and the demonic shriek from the warped approximation of Bendy as it chased after me. Veins of ink snaked along the walls, gradually getting thicker as the monster got closer. It was gaining on me. I turned another corner and saw a small booth labelled "LITTLE MIRACLE STATION". As I saw it, I felt claws rake the back of my my lower left arm, leaving three gashes that stung. Operating purely on an instinct to hide, even though logically the monster could clearly see me, I threw the door open and jumped in, shutting myself in quickly.

I could barely breathe as I watched the creature approach the booth through the slit in the doorway. It was right in front of it. It leaned down, and peered in at me through the slit. I couldn't see its eyes, as they were covered by ink, but I could tell he was making eye contact with me, staring into my soul and analyzing it piece by piece. Then I heard a hissing noise, and I realized it was laughing. My heart almost stopped. But then it stood up, and walked out of view. A moment later, the veins of ink on the wall disappeared, and all was quiet.

Opening the door slightly, I looked out to make sure it was gone. Once I was certain, I stepped out shakily. "Oh, yeah, there's a story here alright, but I'm not dumb enough to look for it," I said to myself. I was getting out of here as soon as possible. I didn't even want to go get my camera. I headed down the hall towards the storyboard room. On the way, I saw a fire ax in a broken glass case. I picked it up, feeling safer with it in my hands. I didn't know how much it would do against something made of ink, but still, it was comforting to have.

As I made my way down the hall, I lapsed into memories from earlier in the day.

"I got a tip," Paul said, taking a drag on his cigar. He'd called me into his office to tell me something, and he'd seemed excited, anticipation flashing in his brown eyes. "And it's a damn good one too, so drop what you're working on."

"What do you mean? I can't just drop this, I—" Paul cut me off with a wave of his hand. "I'll send someone else to cover your current project. Trust me, you'll wanna change over once I tell ya what I've got."

I was confused and more than a little surprised. In my four years of working for Paul, I'd never once dropped any story. Paul had praised me for it; it was how an investigative journalist should treat his job, he'd said, and some of his employees could learn a thing or two from me. Now here he was, telling me to drop my case.

"I got an email from somebody. Said they found somethin' on JD Studios. Y'know, the old cartoon place? Didn't say what, but they said their dad worked at a place called Gent Home Office, who made some sorta big machine for 'em, according to some files they found. Maybe it's worth going and seeing what happened in there. And everyone loves uncovering old stories."

I sighed. I knew Paul, and I knew I couldn't talk him out of this. "Joey Drew Studios, you say?"  
Paul smiled. "Yep."

I was taken out of my reverie by the stinging of my arm as my adrenaline boost began to fade. I needed to clean the wounds as soon as possible. My mind flashed to the first aid kit in the glove compartment of my car. _Real smart, Jason. Go into a potentially dangerous building without any preparation. Even without monsters, I could very easily die in here._

Coming to entrance to the storyboard room, I gripped my ax tightly, and pressed an ear against the door. When I didn't hear anything, I opened it slowly, peering in.

The room was medium-sized, and a warm light came from a couple still-functioning lights on the ceiling. There were desks with storyboards covering them, and the floor was covered in papers, some blank while others had practically no white showing. Most of them were in between, half-finished or featuring simple character sketches. More papers were tacked onto the walls, and you could barely see the wood. I was mildly surprised there weren't papers on the ceiling, too.

I stepped in and shut the door behind me. I immediately felt safer. There was something about this room that seemed warm, even in a decrepit building full of monsters. Maybe it was some sort of remnant of the cartoonists, the artists who poured their heart and soul into these pictures to make kids happy. I looked around with a faint smile. But when I looked to the other side of the room, where the exit was, my smile faded.

The door was standing open, revealing that it was bricked up. I didn't know who the hell could or would do that, but I knew I wasn't gonna be able to get through the wall, even with an ax. I just stood there for a moment, processing this. Then I felt angry. "God fucking damnit," I muttered. Of course it would be bricked up. My life just had to be this complicated. Sighing, I sat down, thinking. _Something tells me I won't be coming into the office tomorrow_, I thought sarcastically. My hand moved to my pocket and I pulled out my phone, only to see it had been smashed beyond repair from my fall off the balcony. Apparently, it hadn't been as lucky as I had. I threw it to the side, letting my head fall back against the wall and trying to block out the pain from my wounds. As I looked around the room, I noticed a couple shelves. They had what looked like jugs of water and a bunch of cans labelled _Bacon Soup_ with a smiling Bendy on the side. _I guess the artists spent nights in here trying to get the pictures right_. The gears in my head began turning. _Maybe I could, too. It's got food and water, and if I chop up the shelves I could bar the door_. _The not bricked-up one, I mean_. _And I could use the water to clean my wounds, and maybe use the blank papers as bandages._

I stood up, grabbing my ax. If I was going to survive, I needed to get to work.

I just hoped I could find a way out sooner rather than later.

But as I began working, something told me I wouldn't be leaving for quite a while.


	3. Chapter 3: The Dancing Demon

**A/N: This chapter gets a lot done, including the summary of the studio's downfall plus my idea of what happened after tacked on at the end. Also, For those of you who saw the first chapter in the first hour I posted this story, I have no idea why it decided to have a stroke and put all that code in the doc. It's the first time something like that has happened, and hopefully it'll be the last. Anyway, onwards to the story!**

**Chapter 3: The Dancing Demon**

I woke up with a start, sitting up and rubbing my sore neck. Sleeping on the floor with just my leather jacket as a pillow was not ideal, or comfortable. I grabbed it off the floor and put it on, wincing slightly as I pulled it over my makeshift bandage. Standing up, I walked over to the corner where I'd stored the food and water and checked my supply. After two weeks, I'd made a sizable dent in the provisions, but I was still reasonably comfortable in saying I could last a lot longer if need be. _I just wish these people ate something other than bacon soup. Seriously, how did they stay healthy pulling all-nighters and eating this crap three meals a day_?  
I popped the can open using my pocket knife and slurped it down, managing to swallow it as I'd thankfully become desensitized to the taste a while ago. After washing it down with a couple gulps of water, I walked over to the door. I grabbed my ax and the paper I was using to map out the floor I was on, and raising the board blocking the door, I headed out. The hallway was dim, but I could still see well enough. I listened a bit for the Ink Demon, and when I was sure he wasn't nearby, I began moving down the hall, towards a section of the floor I still needed to map out. I moved carefully, keeping an eye out for the Demon as well as the horrifying ink torsos I had discovered a few days ago. Unlike the Bendy monster, the torso things could be killed with the ax in a swipe or two, so while they were annoying, they weren't necessarily dangerous.

I encountered only a few enemies on my way down the halls, which I was thankful for. After only a few moments, I had arrived at the edge of my mapped area. Taking out a pen, I began moving forward more cautiously. Now that I was in an unmapped area, I couldn't take advantage of the environment to escape enemies, so I had to be especially careful. I sketched the halls down as I moved, marking things of interest that I could come back to later, like supply closets, offices, and one of those Little Miracle Stations sitting in one corner at the end of a hall. I marked it with a halo on my map and moved on. After a couple more turns, I stopped, looking over my map and checking how far I'd gone. I was considering heading back and getting supplies so I could go further when I heard something that made my blood freeze.

At first I thought it was a machine of some sort, but as it got louder I realized it was whistling. Somebody else was down here, _whistling_, and I had no idea what to make of that. Moving to the end of the hall, I pulled out my ax and braced myself, trying to come up with something to say. I turned into the hall to greet the person and find out if they were friendly or not, but when I saw what was in front of me the words died on my tongue.

At first, I thought I was looking at another cardboard cutout of Bendy, albeit with a tail. I hadn't seen one on this floor yet, so I was confused, not to mention I didn't know where the person I had heard had gone.

Then the Bendy cutout _spoke_, revealing it wasn't a cutout at all. "Heya," Bendy said.

"Jesus Christ!" I screamed, swinging my ax in a panic and missing by an embarrassing amount.

"Actually, I believe you'll find I'm quite the opposite," the little toon joked, but I was already running down the hall towards the Miracle booth I'd seen earlier. "Hey, wait a sec!" I heard Bendy call, but listening to him was the last thing I wanted to do. I dived into the booth and shut the door, clutching my axe in a death grip as a curled up on the floor of the booth and tried to regulate my breathing.

I heard footsteps coming closer to the booth. Two small shadows appeared under the door as Bendy stopped in front of the booth. "Buddy, I'm not an idiot." Bendy said. "I clearly saw you go in there." I held my breath, not daring to move. Outside, I heard Bendy sigh. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Could you come out please?" Again, I didn't respond. I heard another, more exasperated sigh. A moment later, the door of the booth opened, revealing a somewhat annoyed Bendy. "You done having a panic attack yet? Cuz' I could slap ya. I'm sure that'd snap ya out of it."  
"I- you- I mean-" I stuttered, trying to force words out in an understandable order. Finally, I managed to splutter out, "You've been trying to kill me for the past two weeks!"

Understanding dawned in the toon's eyes, followed by more annoyance, though it wasn't directed at me this time. "Oh. You've met _him_," Bendy said, evident venom placed in the word 'him'. "Trust me, fella, he and I are far from the same person. Do I even look like him?" I wanted to point out that, technically, yes, he did, but I stopped myself. He was right; the Ink Demon had never appeared as anything other than a tall, hideous mass of ink and pain with an omnipresent, terrible smile. This was… well… Bendy. The "Little Devil Darlin'" that my parents had been obsessed with as kids and had shown me cartoons of. He was talking, too, something the Ink Demon had never done. While a part of me was still suspicious, most of my brain was starting to relax. "Why… I mean… what are you? What the hell happened here? Does it… is it the Ink Machine?"

"I could answer those questions here, and risk tall, dark, and inky coming and killing you, or we could go to whatever safe room you undoubtedly have somewhere nearby and talk there." Nodding shakily, I got to my feet.

Just as we began walking, however, veins of ink appeared on the walls, and I heard the familiar rasping breaths of the warped shadow of the toon standing next to me. "Run," Bendy said simply, and we both took off. Behind us, I heard the familiar ungodly shriek of anger, and the wounds on my left arm twinged with the memory of receiving them. I don't know how long we ran, but finally, I saw a familiar door up ahead. Bursting through it, I slammed it shut and threw the board down. There was a slam, followed by angry shrieking, but as usual, the Ink Demon gave up after a few minutes and shambled away. Eventually, the small dark veins on the doorframe disappeared, signaling that he had left.

I turned to Bendy, who was next to me and gasping for breath. "Still think… I'm him?" He asked me in between breaths. I shook my head. "Good. So, this your place? Storyboard room, huh? Good place to hole up. Small, only one door. You're the smart type." He walked over to one of the chairs I hadn't chopped into pieces and sat down. "So, you wanna know about what happened here? Sit down. I'll tell ya what I know, but believe me, it ain't as much as you'd think." Taking a seat in another chair, Bendy began his story.

So, I take it you know 'bout the studio, how it got started and all that, right? Well, I guess after a while things started going downhill, because Joey Drew decided to hire some people to make some giant machine for him that could make life sized models outta ink. That'd be the Ink Machine, which I guess you saw considering you asked about it. But he didn't just want models, oh no. Joey wanted living, breathing characters. Me and the rest of his cartoons, specifically. But they didn't quite work out. The first attempt was the creepy bastard that just tried to kill us outside. The guys who built the Machine guessed he didn't work out 'cuz he was soulless. Just pure ink.

So Joey, who clearly ain't right in the head, decided to start killing his employees and using their souls to make the characters work. Before you ask, no, I dunno who I used to be. I remember all the cartoons and stuff, the stuff I should know in order to be Bendy, and some stuff about the studio. But that's who I am. Bendy. Whoever my soul used ta belong to is dead. It's sorta like the idea of reincarnation… 'cept with more ink and probably a lot less God. But anyway, Joey starts doin that, and boom, he's got his wish. But a lot of people aren't as lucky as I am. They remembered their past lives, who they were. And they sure as hell weren't happy. Joey eventually had to close the studio anyway 'cuz all his employees were ink and they were trying to kill him all the time. But he made sure every last employee was inked, so nobody could prove anything. And for a while he had guys come in, record what was happening in here like some kinda sick experiment. But they stopped about ten years ago; too many of 'em were dying.

So there ya go, buddy. That's all I know.

Bendy sat back as he finished his explanation, watching me with pie-cut eyes and waiting to see how I'd respond. Meanwhile I was trying to process it all. Joey Drew had… had _murdered_ his entire workforce… to make money? Disgust and anger welled up inside me. I'd never thought people in real life could be that bad. It just didn't seem to me like anyone could be able to do something like that so easily. And yet… I was surrounded by the fallout of one of those people.

"That… that fucking psycho…" I muttered, referring to Joey. Bendy nodded, understanding who I was talking about. "You an' me both pal. You an' me both."

After a few minutes of silence, Bendy spoke up again. "So who're you, huh? C'mon, I can't be your friend without knowing your name, right?" I looked up. "Friend? What are you talking abo-"  
"It's who I am, buddy. Watch the cartoons. I'm a friendly demon, as oxymoronic as that sounds. So, tell me your name." I thought about that for a moment. "Jason Morris," I finally said after a moment. "I'm 27. I'm a reporter." Bendy smiled, a genuine smile, not the creepy one his counterpart had. He extended his hand to shake, and I took it. "Nice to meet ya, Jason. Something tells me we're gonna get along well."  
And as we sat there, I couldn't help but hope that he was right about that.


	4. Chapter 4: The Scarred Wraiths

**A/N: This story, at the time I'm writing this, already has over a hundred views. Guess this fandom is really big, huh? Anyway, story time! Hope you like sardonic humor…**

**Chapter 4: The Scarred Wraiths**

I woke up to stinging pain in my left arm. I groaned and sat up, leaning against the wall of the room I'd been sleeping by. It wasn't anything new. Every night I'd woken up at least once to the wound, and every time I'd regretted not bringing my first aid kit. Sometimes I was concerned water hadn't been enough to clean it out, but judging by the fact that I could still use my arm at all, I'd done a well enough job to be mostly functional. But tonight, when I rubbed my arm over the bandage, my hand came away wet. At first I panicked, because I thought I'd managed to reopen the cuts and now I was bleeding out. But it felt cold, and when I brought my hand into the light, I saw the substance was black. It was _ink_.

Now I was confused. This was the one room I'd seen that hadn't had ink drips anywhere, and looking around now, I still saw none. Had I gotten ink on it yesterday and just hadn't noticed? But it wouldn't still be dry then, would it? My arm throbbed again and I grunted in pain. On the other side of the room, Bendy stirred from reading his book (I had no idea where he'd even gotten it, only that he'd produced it a few days ago after another mapping excursion), noticing I was awake. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I shook my head, picking my jacket up off the floor and putting it on. "No, just my arm again." I put the ink stain out of mind. Whatever it was, it was probably unimportant. Walking over to the food corner, I pretended to be scrutinizing my choices. "Should I have soup, soup, or soup? What do you think, Bendy?" Bendy chuckled. "I'd go with soup."  
"Excellent choice, buddy," I said, reaching for a can. I handed Bendy an inkwell (after he told me that even though he could eat and drink normal thing, ink was all he really needed and was better for him, I'd stocked up on it from supply closets) and after we were done eating, we packed some supplies and headed out. "Alright, we're going down a level, right?" I nodded. "We've mapped the whole floor and it's the only stairwell that isn't blocked or flooded. Hopefully we'll find another stairwell that goes further down, or better yet, up."

"Sounds good to me," Bendy said. He slung his Gent pipe over his shoulder, and together we headed towards the stairwell.

We arrived and headed down to the next floor without incident. We began mapping the area around the stairwell. Down one hall we found a massive statue of Bendy, which he said was because some of the workers worshipped him. "I try to avoid those ones. Usually they're more than a little crazy… especially Lawrence. God, I hate him." I didn't ask who he was talking about, but I made a mental note to look into it later. We kept going, hacking down the ink torso things - Searchers, according to Bendy - relatively easily.

After a couple hours, we took a break, looking over what we had. "I think we should go a bit further before heading back." Bendy nodded. "Yeah, I think there's a supply closet a bit further down that way." He pointed. I stared. "How do you know that?"  
Bendy shrugged. "I'm not sure. I told ya, I know some stuff about the studio. Mostly it's when I see something, I just remember stuff about it. Probably from my soul donor. But other times, it's like… I dunno… like I'm in some place in real time, seeing what's going on."  
My eyes widened. "The cutouts. You can see through the cutouts." Bendy shrugged again. "That's probably what it is, yeah. I've never tried doin' it on purpose, though. Gives me one hell of a headache." I processed this for a moment. "We should get going," I said after a bit. I got to my feet and we kept going.

After a few more minutes, I was ready to head back. I turned to Bendy to tell him and froze. Standing at the end of the hallway behind him was a humanoid figure, and as it got closer, stalking forward, I saw more detail. It was made mostly of ink, with gleaming blood-red eyes. Its face resembled a skull, and the teeth were actually white. With a jolt, I realized that those must have been the person's real teeth. Then I noticed sharpened white bones sticking out of various places, looking like they'd been turned from painful handicaps into weapons. One such bone was jutting out of the back of the figure's right wrist, which was raised threateningly. "Bendy," I said, "we need to run." He turned to see what I was looking at and paled. "That's not good," he muttered, before we bolted down the hallway.

I heard a scream, similar to the Ink Demon's but sounding disturbingly more human, followed by quick footsteps chasing behind us. To my horror, every couple minutes I would hear another scream followed by more footsteps. The creature had been calling for help, and now others like it were pursuing us. _This is not good_. I saw a door on the right and, grabbing Bendy by his wrist, I dove into the room, slamming the door behind us. Bendy pushed a bookshelf in front of the door as slamming noises began to emanate from the other side. Bone spikes shot through the door, before being pulled out and thrust through somewhere else. They were breaking down the door. I backed away from it only for my back to hit a desk.

After a few minutes, however, the bone spikes stopped appearing, and the noises of the monsters faded. Sighing in relief, I turned around… and saw another one in the corner of the room. I screamed and backed away. "Wait a minute," Bendy said, "I think this one's dead." After a moment, I realized he was right. It was slumped against the wall, unmoving, and its eyes were dim, not glowing like eyes of the ones outside. There was a hole in its chest, presumably the cause of death. I approached it, looking it over. I noticed that the bones were jutting out in the exact same places as with the first one; elbows, knees, shoulders, backs of the wrists. Why would that be if the spikes were random, a result of a not entirely successful transformation? Unless… I looked closer at the areas the bones came out of and paled.

On the inky skin of the creature were stitch marks. Someone had _made_ these things like this, deliberately tore their bones out and left them like that. "What the fuck…" I gasped. Bendy leaned over my shoulder and gave a noise of surprise and disgust. "Well… I gotta admit, that's a new one." I stood up, turning to the desk I'd bumped into before. Maybe there was something in here, from whoever had killed the thing. I opened one of the drawers to see a tape player, an old one from the time period the studio was operational. I hit play.  
"**Day five of our evaluation. After several vivisections of various ink beings, we have determined about 40% of the humanoid ones still possess some sort of skeletal structure. To determine whether or not this is functional or purely vestigial, a remnant of their human forms, we moved several bones from their structure. Some of them expressed discomfort and a few others attempted to kill themselves. Most of them appear to have gone insane, becoming extremely aggressive. A total of fifty humanoids were operated on. We've taken to calling them Wraiths. Will continue to monitor behavior."**

I stared at the tape, processing the information. One of the excursion teams that Bendy had talked about had done this. They really _had_ been treating this place like some sort of lab experiment. Anger boiled in my chest. I picked up the tape to throw it in anger and noticed a note taped to the back. It was stained with ink, but I could clearly read it.

"_We have been gifted we must share this gift pull out their insides they will join us and together we will call upon Him and he will save us if we convert the sinners convert convert convert"_

The note trailed off there. Now my anger had been replaced with terror. The man had said most of them had gone insane, but it was one thing to hear someone speculate that and another to see proof firsthand. Not to mention I had a feeling I knew who "He" was. Specifically, "He" took the note from me and read it, his expression becoming even more concerned. "Welp," he said after few moments, "these guys sound fun. Looked fun too. Somethin' tells me they ain't gonna be reasoned with." I gripped my ax tighter.

And then, suddenly, a vent cover on the floor burst outward, and a black hand with a white spike jutting from the back of its wrist gripped the side of it. The Wraith began to pull itself outward, staring with its unblinking red eyes as we watched it, frozen in shock and fear.

And then it lunged.


	5. Chapter 5: We Who Remain

**Chapter 5: We Who Remain**

In seconds, I was against the wall, with the Wraith pressing its wrist bone against my neck. I tried to push it off but it pinned my arms. Bendy grabbed his pipe and charged, but the Wraith kicked him across the room. He collapsed against the wall, groaning in pain. "Quiet," the Wraith hissed, causing me to freeze in shock. "We don't want to draw the rest to us."  
"You… you guys can talk?" I asked. In answer, the blade was pressed harder against my throat. "Do _not_ associate me with the monsters outside," he hissed. "I am a Remnant; one of those who kept their minds despite the process. The things outside are psychotic cultists bent on turning anything that walks into one of them." I raised my hands in surrender. "If you're not one of them, can you get off me please?" The Remnant's glowing eyes stared into mine for a moment. Then he lowered his arm, and I stumbled away from the wall, gripping the desk for support as I breathed deeply. I looked over in time to see the Remnant's blades retract. "You can do that too?" I asked. He nodded, but said nothing.

After I'd caught my breath, I walked over to Bendy, who was still conscious but in pain. "You OK?" I asked him. He nodded slightly, before managing to stand with support from his pipe. "'M fine," he grunted. "Just… probably gonna have some bruises." Bendy glared up at the Remnant. For a moment, everything was quiet. "What's your name?" I asked after a moment, trying to break the awkward silence. "My name is Maxwell," he said after a moment. I extended my hand. "Jason. And I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you know who my friend here is." Max took my hand wordlessly, nodding, then broke away. "Come," he said, "I will lead you to safety. From my safehouse you may return to your own." He climbed back into the vent, and we followed behind him.

As we crawled I decided to ask Max something. "You… you worked here, right? How did… how did Drew kill all of the employees? Wouldn't some have heard about what he was doing?" There was a pause before Max spoke. "Drew was an excellent liar," Max said. "We knew about the Machine, and Joey's plans to bring his characters to life, but we didn't know he was using us as fuel for it. He forged retirement letters for the employees he sacrificed, posted them around the office so we'd see them. And most of his failures at first were just killed. Then they started coming back, as shadows of their former selves as opposed to the characters Joey was trying to mold them into. Apparently, as long as the Machine is running, nothing it makes can truly be destroyed. Any creatures that are killed are simply spat back out, sometimes as the same thing, sometimes as warped versions of characters or amorphous masses of flesh and ink. When they came back, they started attacking us. They killed a lot of us, and anyone that wasn't killed… well… Joey couldn't have word of his actions escaping." Max laughed bitterly. "He rounded us up and shoved us through the machine. And if that wasn't bad enough, a few years later I had the misfortune of being one of the creatures to still have bones, and one of Drew's evaluation teams decided to take advantage of that." He rubbed his left elbow where the stitches were. "I suppose I'm lucky to still be sane at all. After a while I met others who'd kept their minds as well, but the Wraiths… they sacrificed them. To their God." Max looked back at Bendy, who suddenly found his gloved hand very interesting. We spent the rest of the time in silence.

After crawling for several minutes, we arrived at an opening. Climbing out into the room, I looked around. It was small, with a bed in one corner and a shelf full of inkwells in another. There was no door, but there was a ladder on one wall that led up to a trapdoor. Max walked over to the ladder and looked up at the trapdoor. "This will lead you up two floors. From there you can find your way back. If needed, there is a stairwell nearby." He turned to us. "Do yourselves a favor and don't come back down here." I nodded. "Thank you, Max." I paused. "You could come with us," I began, but he shook his head. "I have a… purpose for being down here. Perhaps if I complete it, I may join you. For now… We must part ways."

Bendy walked over to the ladder and began to climb. I waved goodbye to Max, then began to climb after him. We climbed out into a hallway with machinery lining one side. Some of it was running but mostly it was inactive, rusted and covered in ink. Looking around, I saw a stairwell on one end, but it only led up. I sighed. "Well, guess we better see if we can find our way back." I moved down the hall, Bendy following behind and muttering about his back. After a few turns I heard something up ahead and stopped. I peered around the corner to see three horrific looking creatures. They were about Bendy's size and they all looked extremely deformed. One even had their head swinging from some sort of pole. Bendy looked too and made a frustrated growling noise. "The Butcher Gang. I hate these guys."

I moved away from the corner and turned to Bendy. "Now what? They look tougher than the Searchers and they outnumber us." Bendy thought for a moment. Then he noticed an empty can nearby. Grinning, he walked over to it and flung it down the hall. It landed with a crash at the end, and the three creatures shambled over to the noise, eager for blood (or ink, I guess). Bendy continued grinning as we made our way down the hall and turned at an intersection. The noises of the Butcher Gang faded behind us. "Guess we should save the cans, huh?" Bendy laughed. "You got that right. Most of the things down here ain't that smart. Simple distractions like that work pretty well." We stopped running, catching our breath. I looked up and noticed a map pinned on the wall. "Well that's handy." I pulled out a blank paper and began making a map of the floor, marking points of interest. After a few minutes I'd finished. "It says there's a stairwell over here that leads down." I pointed to it. "We should be able to get back from there." We continued walking, keeping an ear out for the Butcher Gang or any other ink creatures.

Eventually, we got to a section where the floor was mostly out, save a few boards. I looked at Bendy, who seemed uncertain. "Maybe we should look for another way around." He began to turn around, only for us to hear the Butcher Gang coming down the hall towards the corner. "Or not." We walked quickly across the boards. Bendy made it to the end and turned to watch me. I stepped onto the last board-

And fell, as it broke under my weight. I heard Bendy yell my name, but there was nothing he could do. I fell straight into a pool of ink, which thankfully cushioned my fall. I quickly sat up, spluttering. I got to my feet and stumbled forward, ink clouding my vision. I suddenly tripped over the edge of the depression the ink pool was in. Lying there in pain, I heard footsteps approaching. At first I thought it was Bendy, but the footsteps were too sharp and heavy. And there was humming, too, from what sounded like two female voices at once. The footsteps and humming got louder and then stopped, right in front of me. "Well now," the voices said in unison, "What do we have here?" I looked up to see a warped, half-melted, but all too familiar face peer down on my own.

"Tell me," Alice said, anger and amusement somehow in her voice simultaneously, "what do you think you're doing in _my_ territory?"


	6. Chapter 6: Sent From Above

**Chapter 6: Sent From Above**

I stared at the woman in front of me. In no episode of the cartoon that I remembered did Alice have half her face become partially melted, like a candle. One of her eyes was missing, too, and a metallic halo was embedded in her skull above the melted half. All in all, it was a horrific sight, and I had no doubt this was what would be classified as a "failure". Of course, I sure as hell (ha ha again) wasn't gonna tell her that.

"Don't be afraid," Alice said in her offputting voice that sounded like two different voices talking at once, "I don't bite." I tried to get my mouth to form words. "I-I-I… fell… down…." I managed to stutter out. Alice looked up at the hole in the ceiling. "Hmm…" she said. "This place is falling apart, isn't it?" She looked back down at me. "Well, there's no use in keeping you lying here. Get up and follow me." I stood up shakily, and when she turned and walked down the hall I followed her. Eventually we arrived at a sort of lounge room. There was a couch and a couple chairs placed around a bare coffee table. There were closed doors on every wall, leading to who knew where.

Alice sat down on the couch. "Take a seat," she said, gesturing to one of the chairs. Reluctantly, I sat down. "Now then, why don't you tell me your name? I certainly can't have you do anything for me without that, now can I?" I was confused as to what she meant by that, but I told her my name anyway. "Jason. My name is Jason." She smiled, a grotesque sight with her deformed face. "Tell me, Jason: what are you doing in a place like this? There aren't many beings of flesh down here, as you might have noticed." I nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. I was… investigating the studio and ended up stuck down here. Go figure."

Alice leaned back in her seat. "This place does have a way of ensnaring people. It traps them, tortures them, changes them. For many it's for the worse, but for the lucky few such as myself… we become something more." She sighed, and her voice changed. The normal one was still there, but the deeper voice had been replaced by a higher pitched one. But it quickly became deep again as she leaned forwards. "I might be able to help you get out of here," she said, "but you'll need to do something for me in return." I thought about this. I didn't trust her, but I had to take any chance I could to get out, no matter how unlikely. If she was telling the truth, maybe I could even grab Bendy on the way out. He didn't like this place any more than I did, and I lived by myself, so it wouldn't be hard for him to stay under the radar. "What do I have to do?" I asked, and her smile widened. "As you might have noticed, I am not quite perfect… _yet_. I require certain items to improve my appearance. One such item lives on the floor below us. I'd get him myself, but there are... obstacles in the way. Bring him to me. That is all."

I blanched. I was getting her a _person_? Who? Why? But Alice had already gotten up and was walking to one of the metal doors. They slid open, and she began to walk through. Then she stopped and turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. "Better get started, errand boy," Alice said gleefully, "You don't have all day." Then she walked through the doors, and they began to slide closed. Right before they did I heard her start humming again. Then they slammed shut. Another set of doors to my right opened. With nothing else to do, I stood up and walked through them. At the end of a small hallway was an elevator. I walked in and noticed there was only one button, labeled "Q". I pressed it, and the elevator began to descend. As it did, an intercom above me crackled to life and spoke in Alice's voice.

"**Have you ever wondered how God felt when he made the universe? When he twisted and shaped life and matter to his heart's delight, with no boundaries, no limits, and above all, no right or wrong? I imagine he felt exhilarated. Then again, who can understand God? Perhaps he doesn't even feel anything.**

**Joey certainly felt exhilarated, though. I could hear it in his laugh as he threw me into the Machine. I was angry that he enjoyed my pain, but I don't blame him for it. Besides, he gifted me with beauty, didn't he? How could I stay mad at him?**

**Now, enough talk. We have work to do."**

The elevator ground to a halt, and the doors opened. I stepped out into yet another hallway, this one short, with only two doors. I tried the one that was closer only to find it was locked, and I didn't feel like wasting time breaking down. I moved on, and a couple Searchers sprang up. I hacked them down easily. Were these Alice's "obstacles"? Either she really didn't like getting her hands dirty, or she was physically fragile enough that these were threat to her. I walked the rest of the way down the hall. and managed to successfully open the second door. The sound of a radio greeted my ears. I walked into a small room with bed and a table. Sitting at the table was another familiar face.  
"Boris?" I asked. The wolf looked up from his game of solitaire. He seemed unfazed by my sudden entrance, as he simply waved casually and went back to his game. I tried to think. Was this another worker, or something else? And… was this really who Alice wanted me to bring her. "Are you… what are you doing here?" Boris shrugged without looking up, as if to say "where else would I be?". I sighed. Now I was even less sure of what I was doing. But then again, I couldn't do anything else at the moment. Alice controlled the one way out of this dead-end hall, not counting the locked door which I'm assuming was how Boris had gotten in here. "Hey, buddy," I said hesitantly, "I know you have no idea who I am, but do you mind following me." Boris made a noise like a sigh and stood up. He made a gesture above his head, and it took me a moment to realize he was making a halo. He was asking if Alice sent me. _Guess he can't talk_. "Yeah, she sent me," I replied. Boris sighed again, then shrugged and walked out into the hallway and to the elevator. I followed.

As soon as I was in the elevator, the doors shut and we ascended again, stopping back at the lounge. We entered to see Alice standing by the doors she'd left through, hands on her hips. "Ah, there you are," She said. "Thank you for bringing me my Boris. How are you, Boris? Have you kept yourself well since our last meeting?" Boris appeared resigned. He nodded and looked down. I tried to figure out what she meant. They'd met each other in the studio before? "Wonderful. Let's begin, shall we?" She led him through the doors, and they shut. Without anything else to do, I sat down in the chair from before and waited. After a few moments, the lights flickered and I heard a noise from beyond the doors. I couldn't make it out entirely, but it sounded like screaming. _That can't be good_.

After another moment, the doors opened to reveal Alice, notably without Boris. "Thank you for being so patient," Alice said gleefully. Was it just me, or did her voice seem slightly less distorted, less split? And… as she came closer, I noticed her face was less melted. It wouldn't be noticable from even a few feet away, but up close it seemed to have healed slightly. _She wasn't being delusional when she made me get Boris. She really does need him to heal her face. But then… how many others has she done that to_? I was brought out of my thoughts by Alice's voice. "And now your reward. Go through those doors and you'll get what I promised." She pointed as the fourth set of doors opened, revealing another hallway. _This place is a maze_, I thought to myself. I uttered a thank you and walked through the doors. They shut behind me.

I walked down the hall and came out in a dark, open room. On the wall to my left was a large window revealing a lit room full of controls. And standing at the controls was Alice. "What the hell is this?!" I asked her, slightly wary. I had figured it would be a trap, but that didn't mean I couldn't be angry anyway. "I told you I'd let you leave, Jason," Alice said, her voice full of evil glee, "but I didn't say _how_." She pressed a button on the panel and a massive metal door beneath the window began to open. "I have a surprise for you~." She sang. "I hope you like it. I've been saving this one for a _long_ time. I'm so glad I can finally use it."

A massive leg, its end tapered to a point, appeared. I watched, horrified, as a massive inky body and seven more legs emerged out of the shadows. Eight glowing yellow eyes looked down on me. With shock and disgust I realized it was made out of the bodies of inky humanoids, some of their hands sticking out like the hair on a normal spider, their eyes dark and their mouths twisted in screams. "I worked so hard to make this," Alice continued over the intercom, her glee rising with every word, "I even had to use some of my Borises on it to keep it together! But I see now by your reaction that it was _so_ worth it." I began backing up as the spider moved forward, hissing menacingly. "I'd run if I were you," Alice supplied helpfully, "He hasn't been fed in quite a bit of time." I didn't need to be told twice. I turned and ran as the spider let out a shriek and followed.

As I ran, Alice's maniacal laughter followed me.


	7. Chapter 7: The Itsy Bitsy Spider

**Chapter 7: The Itsy Bitsy Spider**

I ran as fast as I could, adrenaline drowning out any exhaustion I may have felt. The monstrous spider let out another screech as it pursued me, and the increasingly loud clicks told me it was gaining. I didn't look back, though, because I knew that if I did, I would be dead.

The hall was dark, and I could barely see where I was going. But the hall was big, too, big enough for the spider, and there weren't many things in the way. Part of me wondered why the hall had been made this big, but then I remembered her saying she'd been saving this for a long time. No doubt she'd set up this hall for exactly the scenario I was in now. The spider's roar of anger brought me back to the present. Seeing a light up ahead, I sped up.

I ran through a large set of metal doors into a large, brightly lit circular room. The spider ran in behind me. With despair I realized that the only door was the one I had run through, and they had shut behind me, no doubt Alice's work. As if she heard my thoughts, her voice filtered into the room from hidden speakers.

"**Now there's nowhere to run, my little errand boy, and nowhere to hide. I'm afraid your adventure has come to a close. I'd say it's been fun, but I'd be lying. Still, I did find you interesting. It'll be a shame to see you go.**

**Destroy him, my pet."**

The spider shrieked and lunged at me as Alice began laughing again.. I dodged to the side, narrowly escaping being squished by a spider. And no, the irony of that was not lost on me. I got to my feet and ran to the door. I tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. The spider lunged again and I dived out of the way. I felt the breeze from its swipe and got flashbacks to the Ink Demon cutting my arm, the still unhealed wound it inflicted throbbing with the memory. I didn't want a repeat of that, either.

The spider's frontmost left leg sank into the floor where I had been standing. The spider growled in annoyance as it attempted to pull its leg out of the floor. As I watched it finally manage to wrench itself free, an idea came into my mind. Taking my ax from my belt, I dodged again as it lunged, and once its leg had sunken into the ground again, I swung my ax at it. After a couple swings, I managed to sever the leg. The spider shrieked in pain and recoiled, ink flowing from the stump of the leg. Then it roared angrily and charged again.

I repeated this several more times. It was harder than I thought; several times it made inky webs that trapped me, and I had barely any time to remove them before it charged. Still other times it would spawn Searchers which proceeded to attack me and keep me from attacking the Ink Spider itself. Eventually, though, it was dragging itself on two legs. Then one. Finally, I severed its final leg. It shrieked, but without any legs it couldn't do anything. I walked up to it slowly. I didn't want to leave it to suffer, and I also didn't want to leave it and have it regenerate, if it could. I drove my ax into its head, cutting off its shrieks. Then a new shriek came from over the speakers.

"**You little brat! Do you have any idea how much work it took to make that?! How much I risked touching the tainted ink that formed its body?! You'll pay for this! I'll get you eventually, and when I do, I'll make sure your death is as painful… as… possible!"**

The speakers shut off with a hiss of static, and the door opened. I watched as the spider's body melted into ink, leaving only a small glob. Then I stared as the glob grew legs and became a tiny spider. It wasn't just a miniature version of the monster, though. It looked more like a jumping spider, with its big glowing eyes. It was actually… cute. It looked around, confused, then crawled over to me. I leaned down and picked it up. "Hey, there, buddy," I said softly. "Guess you're not so bad after all, huh?" The spider crawled onto my shoulder and pressed its head against my neck, making a small purring noise. I laughed. "Well then, I guess I have a pet now. Wasn't really expecting one, but I'm not complaining." I walked out of the room and back down the hall, thinking. Where had this thing been among the monstrosity I'd just killed? Had Alice known about it? Why didn't it melt away like everything else? And, even more important than all those questions… what the hell did I name it? I looked over at it. "I'm gonna call you… Peter. Like Spider-Man. It's not original, but hey, it's better than nothing, right?" The spider's response was more purring. I smiled. "Guess you like it."

I noticed on one wall there was a wooden door marked "Stairwell". The hall was dark, so I hadn't seen it in my blind panic, but I noticed it now. Opening it, I found the stairwell wasn't blocked. Smiling again, I headed up, stopping at the floor my safehouse was on. The door had a chair under the knob. Removing it and opening the door, I realized it was one of the stairwell whose door hadn't opened. Guess the chair was why. I knew my way from here, so I headed back to the safehouse. When I reached it, I knocked on the door. "Bendy? You here?" I heard footsteps, followed by the door opening and a tiny cartoon demon leaping out and hugging me. I laughed and hugged him back.

After a moment, he broke away, looking up at me. "Don't do that again," he said in mock chastisement. "I thought you were dead." I laughed again. "You don't know me at all." Bendy laughed too, then stopped when he saw Peter. "What's that?" he asked, pointing. "This is Peter. It's a long story, so let's head in and I'll tell you." Bendy nodded, and we entered the shelter, shutting the door behind us.

About fifteen minutes later, we were sitting on the floor and eating. Peter was slurping ink out of an empty can of bacon soup that I'd chopped in half for him. Bendy was sitting there, looking down at the floor and processing my story. Eventually, he looked up again. "So… you fell into an ink pool. Some nightmarish version of Alice found you, and made you bring her Boris from a floor below because she was too scared of a couple Searchers to get him herself. She took Boris into another room and probably killed him, in order to fix her face and voice a bit. Then she made a giant spider made of dead Lost Ones chase you, and you cut off all its legs and then it turned into a tiny cute spider. Am I understanding this right?" I nodded. Bendy reached up to his face with both hands and rubbed at his eyes. "'S one of those days…" he muttered.

He lowered his hands. "Well, I don't think I need to say this is kinda bad. We have an evil, creepily disfigured version of Alice living a few floors below us who clearly ain't all there and now has a grudge against ya. Not to mention the death cult we found before you fell that's bent on turning people into more of themselves in my name." I nodded grimly. "It's a lot, yeah," I replied. "Well, one thing at a time. I don't think 'Alice' is gonna try an' bother us for a while, and she doesn't even know what floor we're on, so she's priority number two. Priority number one is stopping the Wraiths from killing and maiming everyone in the studio." That made sense. "So how do we do that?" I asked. Bendy shrugged. "Let's figure it out in the morning. It's late." I wasn't going to argue with him, considering I had no way to tell the time and he seemed to have an insanely accurate internal clock. I went over to my corner and placed my jacket down. As I lay down, Peter crawled over and lay down against my shoulder. I smiled, and closed my eyes. Tomorrow we'd figure things out. We'd make a plan, stop the Wraiths, and then find a way out of the studio. It would take a while, but we'd do it, eventually.

Everything would be better tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8: The Ink is Spreading

**A/N: I know it's a short chapter, but trust me, the content makes up for it and chapter 9 should be up soon. Get ready for one hell (**_**rimshot**_**) of a reveal….**

**Chapter 8: The Ink is Spreading**

I woke up to stinging pain in my left arm. Sitting up suddenly (which caused Peter to wake up with a jump) I clutched at my bandage, biting my lip to keep from screaming. The pain was _that_ bad. When it subsided a but, I noticed the bandage felt wet. At first, I thought I'd opened my wound somehow and I was bleeding to death. But the fluid felt cold, and when I raised my hand to look at it I saw it was black. _Ink_. Now I was confused. Had I stained the bandage earlier and hadn't noticed? Wouldn't I have felt it? Maybe it was from Peter, who was looking up at me worriedly… but no, he hadn't moved from my shoulder until I'd woken him up. My thoughts were ground to a halt as another wave of pain rolled over me, and I gave a small cry.

Bendy, who was sitting in the far corner of the room reading his book, looked up, noticing I was awake. "You OK?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. "Yeah… it's just my arm again… it's nothing…." I said. But I could tell he was far from convinced. "You're white as a ghost, pal. That doesn't seem like nothing to me." He put his book down and walked over. Leaning down, he examined the bandage and noticed the ink. "Where'd this come from?" he asked. I shrugged. "I don't know," I said. "Peter was sleeping by my shoulder, and it wasn't stained when I went to sleep. Maybe the ceiling's leaking…?" but looking up revealed no leaks. Now Bendy looked really concerned. "The… the Ink Demon gave you these cuts, right?" I nodded. He looked at the bandage again, then grabbed it and began removing it. "Hey, what are you-" I began, but I cut myself off with a shout of surprise as I saw what was underneath.

I'd assumed the wound had been healing slowly because I hadn't been able to stitch it shut. Now I saw it hadn't healed at all. In fact, little cracks in my skin were forming between the three gashes. And the cracks, as well as the gashes themselves, were filled with a black, viscous substance that seemed to pulse gently. _Ink_. "What… oh my God…" I gasped. Bendy's face was grim. "This ain't good. You must not have gotten all the ink out when you cleaned it." I looked at him. "What does that have to do with this?" I asked incredulously. Bendy sat down, letting go of my arm. "He… his ink… the ink that makes up all of us, really… it's not the same as the stuff leaking down the walls. Once it goes through the Machine, it's… well, you might have noticed it ain't normal. And if it gets inside a human… it's like they went though the machine, but… slower, more painful."

The world seemed to freeze. My blood ran cold as I tried to process what he was saying. "You mean… I'm… turning into ink?" Bendy nodded grimly. I leaned back against the wall as realization and panic hit me like a tsunami. This couldn't be happening. I was supposed to get out of here, go back to a normal life and maybe find a way to get the studio leveled to the ground. But instead, I was becoming a part of it. Peter rubbed his head against me comfortingly, and while it helped, the ball of ice in my stomach didn't fade at all.

Then it turned hot, as grim determination took hold of me. "There has to be a way to stop it," I decided, getting to my feet. Bendy shook his head. "Trust me, there isn't. I've seen it happen to some of the workers. There's no way to stop it." But I didn't believe him. Putting on my jacket (I winced slightly when I pulled it over the inky hole on my arm) and placing Peter on my shoulder, I walked over to the door and grabbed my ax. Bendy came over, too, still trying to convince me not to try and save myself. "You're just gonna get yourself killed. You won't find anything, and you're body's gonna get worse real fast. You have to stay here." I looked at him with a glare. "I'm not sitting here and letting my entire life fall apart. You said it's like I went through the Machine, right? Well, all machines have an off switch, sometimes even a reverse one. I'm gonna find one like that for me. And nothing you're gonna say can stop me."

Bendy stared at me in exasperation before sighing and rubbing at his eyes. Then he grabbed his pipe from his corner. "Well, I'm not letting you kill yourself, so if you're gonna be an idiot, I'm coming with." I smiled slightly. "Thanks, Bendy." he just looked at me grimly. Peter rubbed his head against my neck again. Turning to the door, I opened it and went out into the hallway, the throbbing pulse of pain in my left arm serving as a ticking clock, and a reminder of my goal. I was done running, and I wasn't giving up.

It was time to show this studio just what I thought of it.


	9. Chapter 9: Time Limit

**A/N: Over 400 views? Wow. Thank you! Also, I noticed we haven't had much fluff, so here ya go!**

**Chapter 9: Time Limit**

I looked around the room, shocked. It was exactly the same as I remembered it being. The holes in the roof letting in light, the balcony I fell from and the broken railing pieces below it. And, of course, the massive, yawning black pit.

The only thing that was missing was the Ink Machine. The chains it had dangled from disappeared into the pit, moving up and down with a clanking noise. I turned to Bendy. "Since when can it move?" I asked. "Didn't you see the lever up there on the balcony? It can go all the way down to the bottom of the studio." I turned back to the pit, watching the moving chains. "So someone made it start going down," I said slowly. Bendy nodded. "Well, the chains are still moving, so it hasn't reached the bottom yet. And we can't get up to the balcony to pull the lever. Which means we need to get to the bottom and meet it there." Bendy immediately shook his head. "Bad idea. It's the Ink Demon's lair. We can't go near it on any floor, let alone on the bottom one."

"Well, where are the administration offices? They've got to have something on the machine there." Bendy grimaced. "Those are… on the bottom floor too." I looked at him. "Then we're heading to the bottom floor." I moved back to the stairwell and started heading down, Bendy following reluctantly behind.

About an hour later, I'd gotten down to a floor marked "T". I'd also started feeling a bit weak, and when I pulled up my sleeve to check my wound I noticed dark veins had begun to spread up my arm from the gashes as my bloodstream carried the ink to the rest of my body. I grimaced, lowering my sleeve. My exertion and fear had sped up the process. I started walking a bit slower and trying to calm down. The throbbing pain in my arm dimmed slightly, but not much. Bendy was watching me the entire time with sympathy.

At the end of the hall I noticed a small glob of ink on the wall that seemed thicker than normal. I reached out to touch it, but Bendy stopped me. "It's from the Ink Demon," he said. "If you touch it, it'll speed up the process." I didn't need to ask what process he meant. I retracted my hand and turned to move down the hall. Suddenly pain wracked my body and I fell to the ground, groaning. Bendy leaned down and placed his hand on my shoulder. "We gotta go back," he said. "You're pushing yourself too hard. It's a wonder its taken this long for this to happen." I let him pull me to my feet and lead me back to the stairwell.

I don't remember anything between that and walking back into the safehouse. Bendy led me over to a corner and sat me down. "You gotta rest," he said. "If you're really so sure there's something we can use to stop this, I'll go look. You just stay here, OK?" I nodded weakly, and a moment later I was asleep.

_I'm drowning in ink. It floods my lungs, covers my body, my face, everything. I claw at the liquid, trying to find something to pull myself out, but there's only more ink. I hear a hissing noise and open my eyes. Even through the black liquid, the smile of the Ink Demon is clear and sinister. I feel claws touch my skin, and a warped, nightmarish voice fills my ears. _"_**You are mine,"**_ _it hisses, _"_**And there is no escape."**_ _The claws dig into my flesh and begin to tear. I can't even scream through all the ink filling my mouth._

I woke up and still felt like I was drowning. I leaned over and vomited onto the floor. After a minute, I could breathe again. I opened my eyes to see that the vomit was mostly ink, with swirls of blood and bile in it. There was also something pink, and with a jolt in my stomach I realized it was part of my lung. I paled. "That's not good. It's starting to get to your organs," I heard Bendy's voice say. I looked up at him. "Did you find anything while you were out?" I asked hopefully, but he shook his head. "Nothing. I couldn't even find a way down to the bottom. There was a secondary archives room that I checked, but I couldn't find anything on the Ink Machine. I'll go back out later." I collapsed back down onto my jacket. Peter crawled onto my chest to comfort me, making worried noises. I stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. It didn't feel any different, but I knew my lungs were partially ink now. I was running out of time. I scratched my left arm idly, stopping myself when I felt skin peel off underneath.

I sat up after a moment, Peter still clinging to my chest. Bendy came over and sat down next to me (on the side I hadn't puked on). "I'm sorry, buddy," Bendy said. "I know it sucks. You had your life planned out and the universe decided to screw you over. Just like everyone in this whole goddamn studio. I don't even know who my soul belonged to before, but I know it was the same for them. They had a plan, and they died way before they were supposed to." He crossed his arms and rested his elbows on his knees. "I've spent close to thirty years in this place, and all I've seen is suffering. But I'm still here, trying to cheer you up, trying to save you even when a big part of me says it ain't worth it, and that there's nothing I can do." He laughed mirthlessly. "Maybe I'm an idiot for acting the way I do. Or maybe I'm just stubborn. But hey, I've survived, right?"

I looked at him. "Thanks, Bendy. For trying." He looked up at me. "Really. You're a great friend. It's like you said, you're doing this for me even though you don't think there's a point. Only a friend would do that." Bendy smiled weakly. Then he hugged me. Peter jumped out of the way onto my shoulder with a squeak. "Thanks, Jason," Bendy said into my chest. I hugged him back, smiling. "You're welcome." We sat there for a while, just enjoying the moment. The studio, and the Ink Demon, and everything else, seemed so far away now.

I was glad to have a friend.


	10. Chapter 10: Claimed

**A/N: What's this? A wild Update has appeared! Chapter 10, here we go! Hope you enjoy it.**

**Chapter 10: Claimed**

The next couple days seemed to drag by. I could barely do anything, so I just had to sit and wait while Bendy journeyed out into the studio to look for anything that could help. All the while, more and more of my body became ink. One time I woke up to see all the flesh on my lower left arm _slide_ off onto the floor, revealing an arm made purely of ink. I vomited after that. After a while I got up the courage to look at it again, and touch it. It felt warm and smooth, and when I touched the floor with it I felt the wood, so the hand worked normally, at least. For a few moments, I just sat there, avoiding looking at the flesh sitting next to me, waiting for Bendy to come back. Even if I'd just missed him, he usually never took long to come back, out of concern for me.

But after a while of nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat and Peter trying to use one of the blank papers and his ink webs to draw a picture, dread began to form a pit in my stomach. Pulling myself to my feet, I tried to walk, only to collapse in pain as my body protested. Gritting my teeth, I tried again, managing to make it to the door while leaning against the wall. I grabbed the axe from beside the door (not that I'd be able to do much with it) I opened it and stepped out, Peter crawling up onto my shoulder. "Come on, buddy," I said softly, "I think Bendy needs our help." I began to make my way, slowly but steadily, down the hall, heading for the stairwell.

After about an hour, I'd managed to make it down to level T, where I paused, leaning against the wall and scrunching my eyes shut in pain. I was sweating, and I pretended not to notice the sweat seemed unusually dark and viscous. Once the pain had gone down to tolerable levels (read: Once I was still in agony, but less so), I began moving again. Suddenly, I heard a thumping sound. At first, I thought it was my own heartbeat, but with horror I realized it was coming from an external source. Familiar veins of ink appeared on the walls. Then I heard a voice. "_**My, my, how foolish. Don't you know it's dangerous to wandering about in your condition?"**_ There was a dark chuckle. I froze. It was the voice of the Ink Demon, the one from my nightmares. But I thought that it was _only_ in my nightmares. I hadn't known he could really speak, or that he was even intelligent. I was brought back to reality by the sound breathing close behind me.

Too close.

Adrenaline surged through me, and I started running, dropping the axe, the pain of movement drowned out by the fear. I ran aimlessly, not knowing or caring where I was going. Up ahead I saw one of the booths, and dived towards it. I squeezed in and shut the door behind me. I sank to the floor, panting. On my shoulder, Peter shivered, pressing against my neck in fear. I heard a hissing laughter from outside the booth, but the Ink Demon said nothing. There was a scraping noise as he danced his claws across the door of the Little Miracle Station. This was a game to him. I knew perfectly well the booths did nothing in reality, and that if he ever decided to stop playing and just open the door, I'd be dead. But he never did. The laughter sounded again from outside. Then footsteps. A moment later, the ink veins were gone, and so was the heartbeat noise, although my own heart was still pumping wildly. Breathing deep, I stepped out of the booth.

Almost instantly, ink poured down from the ceiling. It was the thick ink the Demon secreted, but I barely had time to register that before I was doused in it. It burned everywhere it touched and I collapsed, screaming in pain. In flowed into my open mouth and down my throat, and it was my dream all over again, except this time I could feel it, feel it as it dissolved my skin and organs and left nothing but more ink behind. I writhed on the floor, trying fruitlessly to get some of it off, to save part of my body, but I knew I couldn't. My world was pain and ink, and nothing else. The only thing I could hear was the hissing laughter of the Ink Demon as he watched my transformation from the shadows, my pain bringing him a sick glee. I stopped moving, having used all my energy. After a few moments, the pain faded slightly, and I was able to think relatively coherently. I rolled onto my stomach, trying to breathe through lungs full of (and made of) ink, tried picking myself up with my arms, and promptly vomited ink onto the floor. Everything was ink, I couldn't even see through the ink covering my eyes, my whole body. I wiped at my eyes, managing to clear them, though only partially. I then tried standing up, only for the pain to intensify and for me to collapse again. I looked at my legs to see I didn't have any. Panic seized me as I thought I'd turned into a searcher, but then I saw that my legs were slowly regrowing from the ink around me.

"Jason?" I heard a voice call me through the fog of pain. I looked to see Bendy standing a few feet away, limping slightly. "Oh, my God, Jason…" Bendy said as he walked over to me. There was a mix of terror and sympathy in his eyes. "What the hell happened?" I tried to speak, but ink still clogged my lungs and I only succeeded in gurgling, then subsequently vomiting more ink. Bendy wordlessly began to drag me, presumably back towards the shelter. The next thing I remember is sitting against the wall in our safehouse and sobbing onto Bendy's shoulder. I was saying something about not wanting to be like this and how much it hurt, my mouth moving without much input from my brain. It was as if I was watching myself from outside my body, and I observed with mild detachment as my body convulsed with sobs. Eventually, my head cleared a bit more, and I managed to calm down. My legs had appeared completely by now, though I made no move to get up. Peter sat on my chest, trying to calm me down. "I'm sorry, Jason," Bendy said. "This is my fault."

Anger surged through me suddenly, irrational, delirious anger. "You're right," I practically growled, "it _is_ your fault. You're the reason I was out there in the first place! I went looking for you! If it hadn't been for you, I would still be human!" Bendy winced, but I could see in his eyes he understood why I was saying that. He knew I didn't mean it. But in my current state, that only made me angrier. "Get the fuck out of here!" I yelled. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" Bendy stepped back slightly, and a moment later he was gone. I collapsed onto the floor again, sobbing quietly. It was over. I was one of them now. An ink creature. I was never getting out of the studio, never living a normal life. My world was shattered, destroyed, gone and drowned in ink. For all intents and purposes, I was dead. Despair filled me.

The studio had claimed me.

And now I was a part of it.


End file.
